


We've Got Champagne Taste

by wherenearheisenberg



Series: Not-So-Humble Beginnings [2]
Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Classy partying, Drabbles, F/M, Final Clubs, I enjoy these tags, Max Minghella all the way, Mild alcohol, Pre-movieverse, Stupid guards, TSN Drabbles, TSN rare-pair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherenearheisenberg/pseuds/wherenearheisenberg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The start of everything that was never meant to be. Desperate measures make paths collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've Got Champagne Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble for y'all! This time we explore the rare-pairs of The Social Network and the dynamic empathy of their characters.
> 
> Pre-movieverse. Before Facemash. Before everything happened, something did. It wasn't supposed to be a recurring thing, nor an event to be remembered. At that time they didn't know what was in store for the both of them. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I only own my girl version of Mark and the plot. All characters here are real people. Yes, real people. I do not intend to drag them into my imagination.

"Mark Zuckerberg and Dustin Moskovitz."

  
Mark gave Dustin a sideways glance and a bright smile. He in return grinned at her. Their OS professor called more pairs as a single thought passed through both of them.

  
They'd make a great team.  


* * *

  
  
"Why the hell do I have to do this?" Mark looked at the dress with disdain.

  
"You are the one who chose this project, remember?" Dustin said as he opened a can of Beck's beer and sat on the chair, facing Mark.

  
"Yes, I remember that very clearly. So am I the only one who's gonna work on this project?"

  
"No. Contrary to your belief, I'll work too." Dustin insisted.

  
Mark winced. The project Mark picked for their OS class is about firewalls. They need to do basically 3 things: 1) infiltrate the firewall, 2) study the firewall, and 3), take that firewall down. It was meant to be a tutorial of some sort. But apparently, there's a mission impossible-esque thing they need to do before even reaching objective number 1.

  
"You told me you want an interesting and challenging project background. There you go, challenging from the beginning." Dustin said. He looked as if he was proud saying it.

  
"But why can't _you_ go to the party? I mean, it's Porcellian and all but why couldn't you?" Mark said, almost pleading. She is _not_ going to wear that dress.

  
"Because, even if we're both introverts you'll be able to handle people better. And besides, I'm better at surveillance and sidekicking." Dustin defended as Mark huffed and crossed her arms. She looked at the dress and then back to Dustin. "You can do it, Mark." He encouraged, smiling.

  
"But what if I won't be able to get in?" Mark said, a little nervous. What if she really weren't be able to go inside the Porcellian? Despite having stupid guards, she was still having thoughts. She didn't bother calling Wardo for help because she wanted her and Dustin's project to be a surprise for him, not that he'd like a shutdowned Porcellian firewall but Mark thought Wardo would be happy for their accomplishment.

  
"Give yourself more credit on this. I'm sure you'll do great." Dustin encouraged. Mark wanted to punch him so bad, but she can't because Dustin was right about her choosing this tricky project. She wanted an astounding grade because it will be their finals, after all.

  
A knock on the door startled Mark from her thoughts. Dustin opened the door of their dorm to reveal Erica Albright. Erica was probably Mark's only best friend from the female population apart from her sister and mother. Considering that Erica was from Boston University sometimes made Mark wonder how they went to becoming friends.

  
"Hey Marky, what's up?" Erica greeted as Mark scowled at the nickname. "Don't call me that."

  
Erica laughed. "I love it when it grinds your gears. Anyway, Dustin told me you need a makeover for a party."

  
"Ugh. I wish I didn't have to go to the party." Mark said. She grudgingly followed Erica to the bathroom where a large mirror is placed.

  
"What is it for, anyway? If you don't mind me asking." Erica said as she unlatched the lid of her makeup bag and took out all her makeup.

  
"Just a project thing. I need to do some business there."

  
"Hmmm, business. Then, you should be corporate-ish, what do you think, Dustin?" Erica called out. She started applying foundation on Mark's face and Mark felt weird at the feeling of makeup on her face. It feels heavy and dry. She vowed to never touch any makeup with a ten-foot pole ever again after this.

  
"Yeah, sure. Anything that'll make all the final club boys get to their knees." They heard Dustin reply. It made Erica chuckle, but Mark wasn't happy. She'd rather be coding right now, or eating, or coding while eating. She'd rather be anywhere in a sweatshirt than anywhere in a dress.

  
By the time Mark went out of the bathroom wearing the dress laid out for her, with her makeup and hair done, all silly smiles on Dustin's mouth disappeared.

  
Only to be replaced by a triumphant one.

  
"Shit Mark, you look really pretty," Mark scowled, not used to compliments like that from Dustin. "And don't frown! You'll be using more smiles than necessary tonight."

  
"And who knows," Erica piped, proud of herself. "You might snag a final club guy tonight." She winked and bid Dustin good bye. "Thank my later," she mouthed.

  
Getting a "final club guy" was not what Mark came out there to do. She wouldn't be able to keep up with a single night of beauty. She suddenly wondered what Wardo would say when he sees her. _That's stupid_ , she thought to herself. _Wardo sees prettier women everyday, and I'm not even used to being pretty._

  
Mark was pulled out of her thoughts when Dustin handed her the purse containing several wires. He also attached a tiny camera to the front part of her dress and an earpiece on her right earring.

  
"Now you're ready."

  
Mark nodded and went for the door. She touched the door handle and took a deep breath, she twisted it and yanked the door, heaving herself out. Her feet were still wobbly from the heels, but at least she knew how to walk with them. Her mother made her dance Tango when she was in middle school. Looking back now, she never thought she could put that skill into good use.

  
She let the breeze touch her face as she walked down the stone steps of Kirkland towards the Porcellian building.  


* * *

  
  
How the _hell_ is she going to "enter" the party? The guards were thoroughly interrogating the partygoers for their affiliation with the club. Mark has none. What is she going to do?

  
She glanced at her dress and noticed the tiny cam Dustin placed oh her dress. Right! Dustin could help.

  
"Dustin. Dustin help me out here. How will I get inside the Porcellian?" Mark asked through gritted teeth. The night is getting colder by the second, that's for sure.

  
Dustin must've gotten some stability a few seconds after when he said, "Mark, turn so I can see the people around you. Pretend you're just looking around."

  
And she did. Mark turned a couple of times, acting as normally as a passer-by would, careful not to be seen by the guards lurking around the Porcellian. Suddenly, she became impatient and asked Dustin once more.

  
"I need to get inside. If I don't, all of this won't be put into use." Perhaps that moment something clicked inside Dustin because he said, "Then use it!" to her.

  
 _Oh right_ , she fucking knew it, h _e was referring to Erica's handiwork._

  
She moved all the gut-pulling scenarios she would like to demonstrate to Dustin and thought more rationally. Like a spy. A true one. She's going to get this done.

  
"I'm going to get inside any moment. Just stand by if anything comes up." Mark said. It's now or never.

  
People were still swarming the entrance of the Porcellian, but the number dwindles each passing moment. Mark thought of a plan. She searched for some guy to tag along with. She doesn't know how she's going to do that but fuck it. That's the only plausible plan she could think of.

  
Then a guy comes up. He's dressed in a suit, he looks just about like any other final club member, and guess what?

  
He's alone.

  
 _This is it._ Mark stealthily goes behind the man, looking like she's just behind him in getting in but with reasonable closure to be considered together. The line moves forward and forward, and when they're a person behind the entrance she pulls out a sharp wire from her purse. Not the best weapon but it's the only one she has. She latches on the man's arm and says "Say anything and I'll cut you."

  
 _Wow_. She has never sounded so deadly that she couldn't even believe herself. The man tensed up, obviously having felt the tip of the wire(not that he knew it was only a wire) through his expensive suit. He didn't say anything, and when it was their turn she was so close to him she could smell his aftershave. Well, she was close, otherwise the guards would see that she was poking him with a wire.

  
"Mr. Narendra, I didn't know you had a companion this evening." One of the guards said. The Narendra guy gave a curt nod, while Mark conjured the sweetest smile she could throw at the guards and said, "I'm his girlfriend."

  
The guard to her right smiled at her and said, "Very well, come in."

  
And she was in the party.

  
Mark did a sigh of relief, only to realize that she was still holding the man by his arm. She quickly let go of him and said, "Okay, please, don't tell anyone I'm here. I'm on business, and honest to God I won't kill anybody. So yeah, thanks for the entry." All the hostility and deadly edge died on her voice, and she said the last part awkwardly. The man, Mr. Narendra, however, was just looking at her. He was looking at her like he was stunned.

  
 _Petrificus-fucking-totalus,_ she thought in a quiet inside joke with herself. She thought he lost his voice over the encounter but when she heard him say, "What are you going to do?" She had already whipped past him. When she was a few paces ahead of the Mr. Narendra, she heard Dustin over the earpiece.

  
"Okay, find their computer room or the room where they keep all their technology stuff."

  
"How am I going to find that?" She said, mostly to herself. And it didn't sound like a question, either.

  
The people were talking animatedly with each other. Mark can tell that people here knew each other really well. Perhaps she could start socializing as well to avoid suspicion. But nevermind, she'll do that after her job is done.

  
They were abruptly interrupted when a man dressed in an almost uniform with a Porcellian badge made his way on top of the staircase and proceeded with his welcome speech. Mark stopped. She needs to listen or else he would notice and might call for her. Nevertheless, she stayed near the wall, where se found out it was the same color as her dress; dark brown.

  
When the party resumed, Mark immediately followed where the speaker cords went. Obviously it would lead to the control room where every techy stuff would be. She went deeper and deeper through the club chambers and foud herself inside the control room. The door was wide open as it would make way for things other than speaker cords. The more she delved inside the club, the more she liked it. She wanted to be part of a final club. She wanted to be part of the most prestigious one. But because she was a female, she could never be a member. It's not her fault that she was born with a vagina and the makers of these clubs were gender-biased. It simply wasn't fair. Not when you're definitely worth the slot.

  
"Dustin, I'm here inside their control area. Do you see it?" She whispered to her mic, where that is. Maybe it's beside the camera, but it didn't matter because a second later Dustin had told her to crouch down so he could see the wires.

  
Mark removed her shoes and placed it on the side before doing what Dustin told her to do. While waiting for Dustin's instructions she was examining the whole this as well. She could make out most of the parts. This won't be difficult.

  
"I need you to change the wires of the main firewall to the wires I gave you. It's on the left side of the unit. It shouldn't be hard to locate. I placed 5 different wires in your purse. There will be corresponding colors for every wire in the unit. Got it?"

  
"Yep. I got it." Mark started carefully removing the wires of the left side of the unit. Five ones, to be exact. Then, she took out all the wires in her purse and connected them according to their colors. She made sure each one was tucked securely. She was securing the last wire, the one she used to poke Mr. Narendra, when she heard someone.

  
 _Oh shit._

  
"Hey!" It was him. _Fuck_. It's Mr. Narendra and he found her. Maybe Mark didn't threatened him enough, or the threat weakened the moment she said thanks to him. Either way, she's screwed. Mark immediately stood up but she hit her head on the underside of the top board of the unit.

  
"Ow! Damn it." She winced.

  
"What are you doing? I'll call the guards." Mr. Narendra said, emphasizing on the what. His reaction is clearly understandable, but at the moment Mark thought he was just plain ninny. Still, she tried to appease him.

  
"No! No, please. You don't understand. I'm-" Fuck fine, there's no point in telling lies. They're all studying here anyways. "-I'm doing this project and we need to get past the system. Please, you have got to cooperate with me because I will really do something bad to you if you don't."

  
That doesn't sound much threatening considering how her voice is shaking and she's without any weapon.

  
"And who told you you could do that? Were you authorized?"

  
"No, but-" he cut her off.

  
"First, you threaten me and enter my club party without any affiliation, and now you infiltrate my computer system. You don't have an authorization so tell me, why should I not report you?" Mark couldn't think of any response. But Dustin had told her that if everything else fails, use the deadliest weapon.

 

_Just do it, Mark._

  
_Fucking do it._

 

_Think about OS._

  
So she marched up to Mr. Narendra and kissed him full on the lips. She kissed him and made sure to back him to a wall while he wasn't sure where to put his hands or if he should push her away or not. He did neither and she continued to kiss him. There was no utterly no space between them that she was sure the tiny camera and mic had been smashed to smithereens.

  
When she pulled away and opened her eyes, she saw that his were still closed. He opened them slowly only to lock with hers. He looked at her with a shocked expression, but it was a shocked expression torn between seeing his favorite band for the first time and witnessing a murder. A wide eyed stare you'll rarely receive.

  
Mark's face was still a few inches away from his, so she whispered, very slowly and out of breath, "Please don't rat me out.  I'll leave soon, I promise. I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

  
She removed her hands from his shoulders, went to slip her shoes back on, and grabbed her purse, leaving the control room.

  
Mr. Narendra recovered a few minutes, contemplating on _what the fucking hell_ just happened to him before saying "fuck it" and running after Mark; chasing her for the 2nd time.

  
He found her sitting on one of the stools of the bar, purse in one hand lazily settled on her lap and a drink on the other. She was sitting alone, and he noticed fragments of plastic from the tops of her bodice as he walked towards her.

 

He sat beside her, looking as if they were friends, or they knew each other. Mark looked at him and slightly frowned. She immediately went to a poker face, remembering what Dustin had told her about smiling. Mr. Narendra ordered a drink and took his first sip. After which he said, "Okay, who are you?" with perfect concealment in his voice. Somehow, Mark thought that he perfectly embodied James Bond with his unsubtle-but-inconspicuous interrogation.

  
"I'm no one." If Mark told him her real name, it will guarantee her and Dustin no good.

  
"I'm not kidding," he looked dead serious right now. "I'll make you a deal. If you tell me who you are, I won't tell you to anyone here."

  
To hell with that. If he thought she'd actually do her end of the deal, then he shouldn't be at Harvard because he's stupid.

  
She sighed, pretending as if she's conflicted but resigned. She asked for another glass of beer. She's really the actress now. "Pamela. Pamela Stevens."

  
"Pamela," the name sounded great from his mouth. "I've never seen you around."

  
"Probably because Harvard is huge?" It's the alcohol. It's loosening her tongue. Although, it did made him chuckle a bit. She continued, "You know, the brew here is good. I think I might want to join this club."

  
Mr. Narendra scoffed. "Try your luck somewhere else. You know it's strictly male members here, don't you? We only allow female company during parties and special events."

  
Mark - well, Pamela sighed, "I suppose saying it's not my fault I was born with a vagina increases my already non-existent chance, does it? I mean, are we not as capable as you are? " She tried not to look at him, but when she did, he was staring at her with an amused smirk. It never fails to amuse her how people get amused to a loose tongue of sorts.  _Woah,_ she stopped her racing thoughts,  _t_ _oo much amused in two lines_. Then she started thinking about it again. For Mr. Narendra right here, it was probably the first time he met a girl who was criticizing their system rather than fawning over their members.

  
"It won't. But sometimes it could grant peerage. But it's only in special cases. Unless you do something really peer-worthy." He said, looking around him then back at her.

  
Sensing that her job here is done, she carefully gets out of her stool and grabs hers glass to drink the remaining contents of her glass. "As much as I'd want to chat forever with you, I need to get back to my dorm." That definitely does it. She had loosen her tongue so much it's starting to say compromising things. She didn't even bother straightening her dress as she stood up. Mark tried to compose a good sentence to beat her last, but apparently it failed miserably.

  
"I should probably sleep this away. I'm really not used to drinking but your brew is delicious." Lame.

  
"Wait, Pamela, are you sure you won't need an escort back to your dorm? I mean, I could-" she cut him off.

  
"No, no, I'll be fine. Had I been better, I would've drank even more. Besides, you'd _still_ want to escort me to my dorm despite what I just did?" She started to walk away. She's being terribly honest and she needs to get back home. Now.

  
"Wait!" She automatically turned. "What you did with the system, are you sure it won't cause damage?"

  
She smiled. "I didn't assure you anything. But thank you, for keeping this dirty little secret. The club won't blame you. Haha." She laughed a little. _Fuck, Mark_ , she scolded herself, but still kept smiling. _Go home, you're drunk_. He smiled and shook his head. "Aren't you something else."

  
" _Someone_ else." She corrected, and made her way towards the main door, leaving Mr. Narendra in the arms of the Porcellian.

__

* * *

  
  
Two weeks later, the Porcellian firewall went berserk and died a tragic death.

  
Divya should've seen it coming. That girl, Pamela, surely looked like the type of people to ruin things like systems and whatnot.

  
Except, she doesn't. Her pretty face doesn't make up for it either. She's like a walking doll with a wit and control in alcohol like Queen Elizabeth II. But really, there could still be contradictions about that.

  
She could be a part-time criminal for all he knew.

  
But he just couldn't feel it in her. Like she's programmed to portray only the truth, whilst doing the exact opposite.

  
Mark, on the other hand, couldn't be any happier. She and Dustin managed to get the highest grade in their OS class for their little firewall project. It was easy to cover up when they were asked who's firewall they used for the demonstration.

  
"I told you we'd make a great team."

**Author's Note:**

> So that was it. I hope you guys liked it.
> 
> I put much time and effort into writing this chapter because frankly, girl!Mark/Divya is a ship that I will go down with. But do not be fooled, this feat will not be easy because for the next drabbles I will bombard you with rivalry and confusion. Deal with it.
> 
> Title came from the lyrics of The Maine's "Love and Drugs". In my opinion that is this ship's song. The tune in the intro fits the scene, really. And the rest of the song sounds just like a post-mix love affair.


End file.
